


Night Before

by sekiigan



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M, boy hide just needs some love man, just say'n, kaneki ken - Freeform, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiigan/pseuds/sekiigan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hide's thoughts before the Raid on Anteiku.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Before

He sat hunched over slightly on the bed, eyes seemingly having nothing important to look at other then the rough carpet beneath. A few soft stands of golden blond hair strayed in his vision, but he wasn't bothered by it. 

The television was on, illuminating the room slightly, enough to at least make out some of its contents. The sound it produced though, was just white noise. 

Eyebrows where furrowed in thought, lips pressed in a tight line. His limbs hung loosely from his body, only being propped by his knees. A can was in one hand, gripping just tight enough so it wouldn’t fall. 

That had happened many times. He had the stains to prove it.

Grumbling to himself before heaving a drawn out sigh, the man glanced up. He reflexively brought one hand up to protect his eyes from the sudden onslaught of bright light.

He squinted at the television for some moments before finally making out what was currently being broadcasted. 

It was a news reporter discussing the CCG, and that all citizens be warned about the raid that would be taking place tomorrow. 

He tried to stifle a frown.

Sighing once more, the blonde looked away, favoring to look at the can instead. He swished the contents inside for a few seconds before taking a small sip. An almost bittersweet smile crept onto his face. 

He could never get used to it. Coffee. 

No matter how many times he drank it, it would always taste the same. Bitter. It was like he kept drinking it for the first time, over and over again. 

A gurgle suddenly erupted from his stomach. The man groaned slightly. His body kept telling him to get nutrition, but his brain said otherwise. And for the past many months, he had more important things to worry about. 

Though the toll was he had lost weight, enough to the point that it was probably unhealthy. His body almost didn’t seem like his anymore. He had only one purpose now in life. 

Running a hand through thick locks of hair, he smiled slightly. Though his eyes held loneliness. 

He could practically hear him. Scolding the blonde for not taking care of himself. For not eating. For not stopping. For not giving up.

He could almost see him fretting over his condition, worrying his head off.

Almost. 

Because in the end, he had been gone. For a long time. Left without a trace; missing. It had been a long time since he had talked to his most precious person.

His most precious person.

How he prayed he remembered his voice correctly. How his grey eyes would light up in interest at the mention of a novel. How he would furrow his eyebrows slightly in concentration while making coffee. How he would rub at his chin when he was nervous or lying. How his soft laughter and smile would make the blonde’s day better. 

Sighing, he brought the can up to his lips and gulped down the rest of the dark liquid. He set the empty can down on a small table next to his bed.

He sat in silence, now ignorant of the televisions noise.

After a few minutes he hauled himself up to a stand, stretching his sore limbs. They let out a few pops and cracks. He then made his way to the television, staring at it quietly before shutting it off. He plopped back onto his bed, facing towards the ceiling.

Carnelian orbs stared at the dull color for a long while, lost in a sea of thoughts. Raising his hand up, he started making small gestures at nothing, or wiggled his fingers around.

He sighed.

The raid was tomorrow. The CCG was going to attack Anteiku. The place he had made his home at. Where the timid boy felt loved, cherished. A place where he didn’t feel lonely. 

And the blonde was going to be one of those sent to destroy it. 

Guilt gnawed at his heart. It felt strange. His heart was a void of loneliness and lies. He had been left behind, and was doing everything in his power to get his home back. Even if it meant joining the enemy to do so. 

The man glanced around his messy room before bringing his gaze back to the ceiling, a somber expression taking over his features. This could be the last time he would see his pathetic excuse of an apartment. The last time he could see anything.   
He closed his eyes. And smiles.

But its okay. 

As long as he gets to see his most precious person one last time. 

The boy who smelled of comforting aged books, the boy with soft, timid eyes filled with innocence, the boy with a small smile and a gentle soul who was plagued in tragedy;

It would be okay. 

As long as he gets to see his home one last time, the whole world doesn’t matter. He, the boy with the tragic tale, was his only home.

So it would be okay. 

It would always be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> thing i made a 'lil while ago  
> sorry its bad


End file.
